


No Self-Preservation

by Miss_Dyana



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: F/M, Humor, Meet-Cute, set in season 2, shy reader
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-14
Updated: 2019-08-14
Packaged: 2020-08-23 16:37:08
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,249
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20245963
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Dyana/pseuds/Miss_Dyana
Summary: Getting mugged while coming home from school? Not cool. Panicking and hitting the mugger? Not the smartest move. Running away? Probably a good idea. Spraying your assailant in the face? At this point, why not.Realizing you got the wrong guy and that one was just trying to help? Awkward...For the theme Meet Cute of the Riverdale Camp event.





	No Self-Preservation

Things were different in Riverdale now. They had been different ever since Fred Andrews had been shot, but while you definitely weren’t blind to the change, it hadn’t had that much of an impact on you. As far as you were concerned, it had just meant that the town finally had to look at itself. Things had never been perfect, no matter what everyone liked to pretend.

At least, that was how you felt about it, mostly detached from the situation, until the man jumped in front of you as you were walking home, in one of the town’s calmest neighborhood, and screamed at you to give him your wallet, knife in hand.

There was only one reasonable thing to do then, of course. In fact, your mom had given you that speech, telling you that if something like that were ever to happen, you were to obey immediately. Your life was more important than money.

Obviously, she hadn’t expected that to happen as long as you stayed on the right side of the tracks, and maybe it was why her advice didn’t register in that exact moment.

No, instead of doing that, you proved once and for all that you had absolutely no instinct of survival when, with a loud shriek, you flung your bag at him, at least sending the knife flying out of his hand. Then, as extreme confusion passed on his face, you realized what you had just done, thought something along the lines of “ _ Oh shit _ ”, turned around, and started running.

You heard him curse, scramble for his knife on the ground and then he started chasing after you, his run echoing loudly in the deserted street. Hot tears burned down your cheeks as adrenaline ran through your veins. He was mad now. God, what was wrong with you? After years of going through life trying your best not to cause any troubles, to be  _ invisible _ , you couldn’t believe your reaction at being met with an actual, physical threat had been violence.

Soon you couldn’t hear him behind you, with how loud your heart was beating in your ears, but you weren’t stupid. You weren’t exactly athletic, and even though fear was definitely affecting your system, making you run faster than you ever had, the guy would catch up with you. He’d been taller, with a better built…

You jumped in the next alley. At least, you had the advantage of having known those streets your entire life, but you doubted that would be enough. You dove again, this time to crouch behind a tree. It was probably the lamest place you could hide, but the perfect neighborhood, with its perfectly ordained gardens and row of houses, didn’t leave you much choice.

Knowing he’d probably be on you in no time, you went through your bag, hands trembling so much you had trouble opening it, and managed to find your bottle of hair spray. Your mother had given it to you one day and, at your surprised expression, had informed you that she’d read somewhere that it was just as effective as pepper spray and you wouldn’t get in trouble because of it. You’d told her she was completely paranoid, but the fact was you were rather happy to have it on you right now.

Especially when footsteps came to a halt next to you, and a hand landed on your shoulder.

“Hey—”

With a scream, you whirled around, spraying the man directly in the face. Only to realize, just one second too late, that this was the wrong guy. The black-haired man you were facing was way taller than the guy who’d attacked, and noticeably didn’t wear any jewelry. He let out a loud groan and fell backwards. Only a few moments, you were above him, this time with a bottle of water, professing one apology after another while attempting to clean his eyes.

“Serves me right, trying to help,” he muttered, though, since he didn’t have much choice, he tilted his head and allowed you to rinse his face. You were careful in that enterprise, your movements slow and gentle, while your brain  _ finally  _ attempted to catch on with the situation.

First, you found yourself absolutely horrified at your action. That probably showed, given the fact that you had been apologizing non-stop for the past five minutes, but you couldn’t get over it. Second, that the guy was, actually, pretty cute up close. Third, that it was  _ so _ not the moment to have this thoughts. And fourth, last but certainly not least, that said guy was wearing the black signature jacket of the Southside Serpents.

That would have absolutely freaked your mother out, but you actually felt rather relieved for a second. If anyone could do something about the guy attacking you, it would be a Serpent.

Except for the fact that you had just, you know. Sprayed him in the eyes.

Despite your third thought, you couldn’t help noticing his deep black eyes, though they were unfocused due to the water you were pouring into them. He  _ really _ looked good, not to mention his skin was actually really soft under your fingers.

“I’m so sorry,” you said for possibly the millionth time. “There was a guy who—”

“Yeah, I saw that,” he interrupted you, clearly annoyed. “Took off when I followed. Didn’t hear me shouting?”

Oops.

“Oh. I— No, I didn’t, I was, erm, running?”

This was your worst nightmare. Not being attacked in the street. No, talking to a guy, who happened to be really attractive, and being in a situation where you knew he had every reasons to be angry at you. In general, social interaction was  _ not _ your scene.

He scoffed and pulled away, as you had finished emptying your bottle, getting back on his feet. It appeared to you at that moment that he was tall. Like,  _ really _ tall, easily towering over you as he folded his arms to glare at you. You had a vague flash then — you’d definitely seen the guy at school. The Serpents had transferred really recently, but you had definitely noticed him from afar, emerging from the crowd of students.

“Do you— I mean, I don’t have a car, but they still look a bit red,” you commented, examining his eyes. “Maybe you should go to the hospital or something?”

He rolled his eyes and you felt yourself shrinking immediately. “I’ll be fine. Are  _ you _ okay?”

The question briefly brought tears back in your eyes but you blinked them away, wiping your cheeks quickly. “I’m— I’m fine. He didn’t— do anything.”

“Yeah,” he practically growled. “Stupid Ghoulies, thinking they can do anything out of their territory, like it’s not going to effect all of us.”

“Thank you,” you whispered. “For— getting him away.”

His shoulders relaxed just a little, which was the only way he showed that your thanks actually meant a lot. Truth be told, he definitely hadn’t expected that from a Northsider when he’d gone after you. He sighed. “The Serpents don’t want trouble. Can’t say as much for the Ghoulies though.” Also, Jughead had asked him to play nice, and he’d decided to try and humor him.

Key word, try.

That didn’t mean he’d let go of a chance to beat up a member of the Ghoulies. Except that he’d gotten away and now he was stuck with. Well. You.

Sure, you didn’t look too bad, if you asked him, in a cute kind of way, and you had helped him. Admittedly, after  _ you _ had sprayed him in the face, but it was still something, and you had only been doing your best, after all. He could appreciate that. 

“Are you sure your eyes are okay? I’m really—”

“Sorry. You mentioned that.” If he heard you say it one more time, he might try to murder you.

You glanced up at him, swaying awkwardly from side to side. This was horrible.

“How far do you live?”

“Excuse me?”

“How far do you live?” he repeated. “I’ll walk you, I guess. In case he shows up again.”

Which, at this point, he really hoped would happen, because he definitely needed to take his anger out on somebody.

“Oh, erm, in the next street, actually. But I’m sure it’d be fine if—”

“Let’s go,” he interrupted you yet again.

“Okay,” you immediately replied.

Boy, did you feel bad as you started walking next to him silently. He’d helped you, you had hurt him in response, and now he was even offering you more protection? You were feeling shittier by the minute.

“I’m Y/N, by the way,” you said, trying to break off the silence. “I’ve, erm, seen you around at school.

He glanced at you, rising an eyebrow, and gave you a nod.

“Sweet Pea,” he replied. “What, do you Northsiders already have files on all of us?”

You blinked. Not really, no. You just… noticed he was tall. Just like you’d noticed the new girl because she had pink hair and you thought that was really cool. But somehow, that felt rather embarrassing to explain.

“I don’t think we do,” you replied carefully. “I mean I don’t know everyone. Maybe there are files going around.”

This made him look at you again, but he couldn’t tell if you were joking or not. To be honest, neither could you. If there was one thing you’d learned there over the years, it was that you should never underestimate anyone in Riverdale High, because they all had the potential to go batshit crazy at any second.

“Betty is working on an article for the Blue and Gold, though,” you mentioned since you had started helping her after Jughead had left.

He let out a disgusted scoff that surprised you. “What does  _ she  _ have to say about us? That we’re the lowest of the low?”

“No,” you replied, tilting your head. “Betty’s not her mom. She’s always defended the Serpents. I think she plans to talk about the prejudiced reactions to the move. You know, with what Reggie and Cheryl pulled…”

You expanded a little on the Blue and Gold, feeling the need to defend Betty when he didn’t look convinced at all. It got him to reply, rather bitterly, that putting that much money into a school newspaper when his school didn’t have  _ anything _ , back when it was still open, felt a little indecent. That was actually a conversation you would have loved to get deeper into, have his side of the story about South Side High closing and how it was there, but this was when you arrived at your house.

“Thank you,” you said, again. “I, erm— It was nice meeting you, Sweet Pea.”

Great. Smooth.

He shrugged it off. “Next time, just give the guy your wallet, okay?”

You grimaced, but nodded obediently. You definitely hoped there wouldn’t be a next time.

“And about your eyes, I’m really—”

He looked so annoyed that you bit your lip to stop yourself from finishing that sentence, offering him an apologetic smile instead. Still, “sorry” and “thank you” didn’t feel nearly enough. You considered your options. They all felt pretty bad too. A gift? You didn’t know the guy.

Not that you would have minded. Getting to know him, that is. He seemed interesting, based on what little conversation you’d had, and he had been pretty nice, if not very nice, considering the saving thing. Angry, yeah, and he definitely had a thing against Northsiders, so if anything, you doubted he’d want anything to do with you. Still, you felt you had to find a way to repay him.

Pop’s? That could be good. Pop’s was a pretty common currency, at Riverdale High.

“Do you, um, I could— Do you want a milkshake? At Pop’s?”

Wow, you were bad at this. But your embarrassment was nothing compared to how you felt when he rose an eyebrow and said “Are you  _ hitting on me _ ?”

Your face heated up immediately and you shook your head frantically. “No! No— no I wouldn’t— I mean— It’s not that I  _ wouldn’t _ but—”  _ What were you even saying? _ “This wasn’t— I—  _ No _ ,” you concluded pathetically.

Despite himself, Sweet Pea felt a grin breaking on his face. Your reaction was pretty cute, if you asked him, and, well, so far, you’d happened to be rather decent, for a Northsider.

Plus, he had proven to have a thing for girls who attacked him. Apparently, even if it was by accident.

“Okay,” he said.

“So how can I— Wait, what?”

Once again, he watched you blush insanely. He… could get used to the way you looked when you did that, actually. Especially if he was the one provoking it.

“Okay,” you said slowly, trying to calm down. “Okay, so, tomorrow maybe? After school?”

“It’s a date,” he said, then winked at you, and walked away while you were just gaping, trying to process what, excuse the language,  _ the fuck _ had just happened.

He threw a last glance around his shoulder when he arrived at the corner. You hadn’t moved, just turned your head a little to look at him, still appearing to be extremely confused, and he felt rather proud of himself. If this worked out well, you were cute, and Jughead would never be able to get on his back again about the Northsiders. If it didn’t, well, at least it would have been fun.

But he had the intuition that this would not be the end of your story.

**Author's Note:**

> Hope you've enjoyed and that Sweet Pea was in character (we don't know that much about him but I did try). I might turn this into a mini-series at some point.


End file.
